


Choking On Smoke

by agetwellcard



Category: Panic! at the Disco
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Coming Out, Gay crisis, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-31
Updated: 2014-03-31
Packaged: 2018-01-17 15:46:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,861
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1393321
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/agetwellcard/pseuds/agetwellcard
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He tries not to think of that thing that happened a few weeks ago. The thing that made his whole chest fill with something that had never been there before. The thing that had single-handedly set his whole life on fire. To be fair, though, his life had always been engulfed in flames he had just chosen to ignore it. (A gay crisis/coming out fic)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Choking On Smoke

**Author's Note:**

> hi, look a new fic. this was my fun way of working through some stuff. it turned out much longer than i expected it to. hopefully it's okay though. thanks for reading. good luck. make sure to tell me what you think.

It’s nearing noon, the minutes feeling longer as each one passes. The priest goes silent for a few moments as he flips to his already bookmarked page in the Bible, clearing his throat, and then going back to something that Ryan isn’t really listening to. He awkwardly fidgets with his own copy of the holy book on his lap, thumb rubbing up and down the spine like maybe some of its supposed wisdom will actually help him.

 

Ryan’s mother next to him doesn’t notice the way that he yawns for maybe the fifteenth (maybe sixteenth, he’s not sure—he hasn’t been counting or anything) time and rolls his head back, staring up at the ceiling. He thinks about how he could be sleeping in right now or at least finishing the essay that’s due for physics tomorrow. Anything but _this_.

 

He knows that technically he doesn’t even need to be here. It was just after his father stopped going, Ryan knew that his mother needed someone to go with. Religion was just never anything that Ryan understood. He never felt any connection, never once “felt God in the room” or even accurately followed along in the Bible. Even if his disinterest was obvious, his parents never said anything, and his mother only smiled a small smile and took him to Sunday mass with her.

 

Before the priest finishes the lecture, he tells everyone to stand and shake hands with someone they’ve never met. Ryan stands up hesitantly, looking around for someone who won’t mind shaking his hand. He knows the older folk sitting to the left of him, and right before he’s about to shrug off the request and pretend like he already has, the boy in the row ahead of him spins around.

 

Ryan has seen him around before, at church and at school. He’s got black hair, brown eyes, and big lips. Ryan wishes for a split second that his features were as soft as the boy’s, that he wasn’t all sharp angles. Ryan likes the way the boy looks.

 

He nearly doesn’t catch the way the boy holds out his palm, small smile on his lips. He finally snaps to attention, though, moving to life and shaking his hand. He mutters, “I’m Ryan.”

 

The boy smiles wider, straight teeth peaking past lips. “Brendon Urie. It’s nice to meet you.”

 

Something churns in Ryan’s stomach, and he’s glad to be able to have his hand back after they’re done shaking. Brendon turns back around, but not before giving Ryan a long look, one that makes Ryan feel like a million times more worthless than he usually is. When he turns to his mother, she’s giving him a soft smile and nodding to the sanctuary’s doors.

 

It’s not always like that when Ryan meets people, especially boys.

 

It’s only noon and he already feels sick.

 

Ryan figures he probably looks pale and completely put off, but despite these things, Ryan’s mother insists on talking to a few people before leaving. Ryan agrees to go sit down at the benches near the doors and wait for her. He carefully puts his Bible down next to him and then proceeds to stare at his shoes.

 

He tries not to think of that _thing_ that happened a few weeks ago. The thing that made his whole chest fill with something that had never been there before. The thing that had single-handedly set his whole life on fire. To be fair, though, his life had always been engulfed in flames he had just chosen to ignore it.

 

When he feels the presence of someone else standing in front of him he looks up, expecting to find his mother, but he just finds Brendon giving him another wide smile. Ryan simultaneously wishes he could leave and stay.

 

“Hey,” he says, motioning to the few feet of empty bench next to Ryan. “Do you mind if I sit?”

 

Ryan quickly snatches up his Bible and nods his head. Brendon seems like one of _those_ church kids, and the thought completely ruins any pre-conceived notions Ryan’s ever had about the guy.

 

“Are you new here, or have I just always missed you?” he asks, looking genuinely interested. I shake my head, keeping my mouth closed. “Oh, weird. Do you not come to youth group, then?” He shakes his head again. “Why not?”

 

Ryan inwardly cringes. He should have guessed that Brendon wasn’t actually interested in him, and was just going to try to ensnare him in a church barbeque or something. “I just.” Ryan clears his throat, trying to buy himself time to think things over. “My mom. She likes for me to come with her.” _Fuck_ , Ryan thinks, _words always sound better in my head._

 

Brendon smiles as if Ryan’s actually endearing or something. “That’s nice of you to come with her,” he tells Ryan.

 

Ryan looks away, unsure of what to say. An awkward silence falls on them, and he wishes he was better at this. He wishes he was better at making silly small talk. He can’t think of anything to say and he nearly start to panic, feeling completely worthless about putting Brendon in this situation, but then my mother walks up, looking between Brendon and Ryan happily.

 

Ryan instantly jump up before she can say anything, and smiles towards Brendon. “It was nice meeting you. Bye.” He dashes out of the church before hearing his reply.

 

In the car, his mother is quiet, the radio playing softly in the background. She drives carefully, both hands securely in the ten-and-two position. Ryan stares out the window, mainly hoping that she doesn’t bring up Brendon.

 

“You know,” she says quietly, eyes moving from the road to Ryan for a few seconds before going back. “I really appreciate you coming with me. It’s been hard lately, and this is really what I need.”

 

_It’s been hard lately._

 

Ryan wishes things could be as neat as she makes them sound. He just nods and watches a mile-marker pass by. “You know I don’t mind.” Ryan does mind, in his own way. He wishes he could stay home every Sunday and sleep instead of forcing himself out of bed. He’s can’t let her worry about that, though. She’s got enough to worry about.

 

“You were talking to that boy before we left.” Ryan grimaces, wishing she could have just ignored it. “Maybe you’ll make a friend.”

 

Ryan really doubts it. Ever since he moved to Michigan, he had been unable to find someone who wanted to be his friend. And, sure, he knows people, and talked to people in class, but none of them were his friends. Ryan’s mother had been worried ever since they moved here about the lack of interaction Ryan has with people.

 

“He seems like a devout young man.”

 

Ryan closes his eyes, fingers gripping noticeably tighter onto the door handle. While his mother had noticed that, he was busy watching Brendon’s fingers on his lap, the way the nail beds looked puffy and some were bloody, like he was a biter.

 

Ryan really wishes he wasn’t so goddamn obvious sometimes.

 

***

 

At school, Ryan spends his lunch hour way in the back of the cafeteria by himself. He has his social science textbook open, a worksheet in front of him only half done. Ryan usually relies on his lunch hour to finish all his homework instead of doing it at home. It makes him look busy while everyone else talks to their friends and eats their lunches. Ryan’s always stays unopened at the end of the table.

 

He’s almost done with the worksheet when Jon sits down next to him. Jon is in a total of three of the four classes Ryan has, and has been insistent on making friends with Ryan. It had actually been thrilling at first, having someone to goof off with during class, but then he invited Ryan to a house party.

 

House parties aren’t exactly Ryan’s thing, but he went along anyways, telling himself that he had to make friends somehow. It wasn’t anything like how he had expected it, but somehow after one beer, he had been tricked into joining a spin the bottle game. Ryan had thought that maybe they were too old for this sort of stuff—they were _eleventh_ graders for Christ sake.

 

Ryan had quickly figured out that the game was slightly different than the eighth grade version where the two people chosen quickly kissed and then sat down with blushes on their faces. No, in this version, the people were nearly making out, and then had to take off one article of clothing from each other before going their ways.

 

Ryan’s heart had raced, completely terrified about the whole situation even after his beer. The bottle had landed on Jon, and he leaned forward with a smirk and started to kiss a girl with red hair. Ryan awkwardly looked around, trying to find anything more interesting than the way Jon slowly pulled off the girl’s shirt, revealing a bright pink bra. Once Jon had been stripped out of his sweatshirt, he sat back down and reached for the bottle.

 

The bottle spun a few 360’s before stopping with the neck pointed right in Ryan’s direction. He tried to act cool, rolling his eyes and shaking his head. There was no way he was going to kiss and then take off Jon’s shirt in front of all those people. He wasn’t going to let them think he was _gay_ because he wasn’t, and the thought made him feel sick.

 

A few drunk girls all insisted they go through with it, and after a very light persuasion, Jon had been convinced. He turned to Ryan with a grin on face, giving him a long look right before leaning in and awkwardly landing his lips on Ryan’s.

 

It wasn’t like Ryan was going to admit that he hadn’t ever even kissed anyone before, but he was painfully inexperienced and he only assumed that Jon could tell. Ryan didn’t even want to think of the feeling that was growing in his stomach or how clear he had felt in that moment. Jon’s hands had startled him, light fingertips grazing his sides and playing with the hem of his t-shirt before slowly pulling it over head, their mouths separating.

 

Ryan didn’t even think of all the people around him, just the way that Jon was looking at him like he had just figured so much out all at once. Ryan had felt like that on the inside, at least. He carefully went to take off Jon’s shirt, it dropping to the floor next to Ryan’s before they both looked away. Ryan started to hear the buzz of the room again, a few girls letting out catcalls and giggling.

 

Licking his lips, he spun the bottle and then proceeded to kiss a girl, his chest not filling with the same feeling it had with Jon.

 

Ryan hadn’t actually talked to Jon since the end of the party, when they had awkwardly exchanged glances as they pulled back on their pants that other people had pulled off during the game. Now, seeing him look so vulnerable, it kills Ryan. He just wants to pretend like none of it even happened.

 

“Hey,” Jon says quietly, looking anywhere but Ryan’s face, which is mostly okay with him. “Look, I don’t usually have these kinds of conversations after parties.”

 

Ryan feels like he can’t breathe. “What do you mean?”

 

“It’s just. I could tell you were into… _you know_. And I—I just wanted you to know that it was just part of the game. I’m not like that, and I don’t really care if you are—“  


“I’m not,” Ryan chokes out. God, he’s not. He’s _not_. al

 

Jon gives him a long look and then lets out an awkward laugh. “Ryan,” he mutters. “Come on.”  


“Fuck you.”  


“Fine, you know what, _fine_. I’ll see you around.”  


Ryan watches him walk off, visibly angry. Ryan didn’t even realize that his hands had started to shake. All he can think of is the way Jon’s fingers had felt right above his belt. Ryan abruptly closes his eyes.

 

He’s _not_.

 

***

 

At home, Ryan stays in his room as much as possible. His parents don’t get back until late, and when they do, they usually just fight about things like the bills they can’t pay and the trips to go see family members they can’t afford. Ryan secretly likes when they’re home, though. Not because they fight, but because he likes that it isn’t just him and his silence. He likes knowing he’s not alone.

 

Tonight is no different, and he can hear his parents booming voices through the walls. He has a spiral bound notebook in front of him, the pages curled and frayed from constant hiding techniques. He doesn’t think his parents would actually read through it, but he’s not taking the chance. In tiny writing (which he suspects is because he doesn’t actually want to write his secrets so big that they reach from the top of the line to the bottom) he has his life puked out onto pages and pages of black ink.

 

It’s his only remedy to the constant narrator in his head. Ryan doesn’t have anyone to tell them to. His parents aren’t nearly close enough for him to talk to, and he has no friends who would listen to it all, so he’s stuck writing it all out for himself. Surprisingly, it’s all he needs.

 

Even if it doesn’t put out the fire completely, it does bring it down so the flames aren’t so high above his head and he isn’t choking on the smoke.

 

***  


During the week Ryan passes Jon in the hallway frequently and every time he catches a glimpse of his carefully styled brown hair, he becomes completely aware of everything, nearly stumbling into the person in front of him. He’s glad Jon isn’t talking to him anymore because he doesn’t even know how to act around him after the party.

 

On Friday, though, Jon cautiously sits next to him in physics and gives him a shy small. “You know, you gotta stop looking so miserable.”

 

Ryan looks down to his textbook and smiles so wide he hopes that Jon can’t actually see it. “Sorry,” he mutters, smile still burning on his lips.

 

“Ever since I stopped talking you I think I started failing all my classes,” Jon tells him.

 

“Yeah?” Ryan replies. He can’t even help the way he bites lip. “Did you figure out you need me?”

 

He doesn’t mean for it to come out like that, but it does. Ryan can literally feel how much things have changed between them, the atmosphere something new and completely foreign to Ryan.

 

“Yeah, I guess so.”

 

***

 

When Ryan wakes up for church, the first thing on his mind is Jon. When everyone else is listening to the message for the week, Ryan wonders about the next time he’ll be able to see Jon. When Ryan finally realizes what he’s doing, his brain clicks off.

 

Jon is just trying to mend the friendship they had. He’s not trying to make something new, something that Ryan knows is so absurd that the thought of it sets off sirens in his head. Ryan doesn’t want to linger on all of this, though. He just simply likes having a friend again.

 

The service feels shorter that week, and when Ryan’s mother goes to talk to her friends, Ryan really doesn’t mind having to wait on the bench for a while. He just spend his time letting his mind wander. Jon said he wanted to do something with Ryan, and not go to a party this time, but just come over his house and play video games or something. It sounds ten times better than a night alone with his parents.

               

Ryan still finds himself snapping back into reality when he hears a vaguely familiar voice. It’s Brendon, a mere few feet away, smiling politely at an older couple. They ask him something about a youth group project and then about school, and then the inevitable comes up, but Ryan nearly chokes upon hearing the wording.

 

“So, Brendon, do you have a boyfriend we need to meet?” the woman says, big smile on her face.

 

Ryan really just wants to believe that she’s just joking with him, but then Brendon shakes his head, a fiery blush spreading over his cheeks before saying, “No, can’t say I do. One day, though, I promise, Eve.”

 

As quickly as possible, Ryan looks down to the carpet by his feet. _Jesus Christ_ , he thinks, _Brendon is gay_. And, sure, Ryan doesn’t exactly know much about Brendon, but he doesn’t really look gay or sound gay or even remotely have the traits that Ryan usually thinks that all gay men share.

 

“It wasn’t until I was twenty-two until I met Eve,” the older gentleman says, giving his wife a big smile.

 

Ryan doesn’t think he goes to that close-minded of a church, but he’s still amazed at how nice the couple is to Brendon, how they know about it, and then even ask him about it. Ryan can feel his own cheeks burning, like he’s the one being asked about if he has boyfriend.

 

Suddenly, the air in the church is so constricted that Ryan has to go outside, the cool wind of late September creating uncomfortable goose bumps on his skin. He leans against the church wall, the only thing running through his head is that he wishes he would have never met Brendon or Jon.

 

***

 

Jon’s house is in the nicer part of town, his house not some mansion, but substantially larger than Ryan’s. Almost embarrassingly so.

 

Glossy wood floors meet them at the doorway, and go on throughout the house. Perfectly aligned framed family portraits lead to the kitchen, where Jon pulls out two Mountain Dews, handing one to Ryan and then getting a bag of chips from on top of the fridge.

 

“My parents aren’t home,” Jon tells him quietly as he pulls the metal ring and the fizzing of the carbonated drink is the only sound left in the room. “I hope you don’t mind.”  


Ryan tries to decipher what this means. His brain wants to jump to conclusions of loud sex, but when his chest tightens, he knows that obviously isn’t what Jon is insinuating. Or at least he hopes so.

 

They end up in Jon’s bedroom, on the bed, playing video games. Ryan feels completely incompetent, his character being killed every single round. He never plays video games. When Jon realizes this, he clicks off the game and gives Ryan a long look.

 

“Dude, you suck at this,” he tells Ryan, big smile on his face.

 

Ryan figures he should be partially offended, but he can’t bring himself to be. Instead, he just shrugs, looking down to his lap so he doesn’t have to look at Jon.

 

“You know, I was thinking about what I said to you at lunch the other day,” Jon says. Ryan completely freezes. He doesn’t want him to talk about it. Ryan was actually quite content with just ignoring it. “And I was being a dick.”

 

“Kind of,” Ryan mutters. He wishes that Jon would just be able to see how clear it is that Ryan does not want to have this conversation.

 

“Like, you’re just cool to hang out with,” he says. “And I don’t want for you to think that I would actually treat you differently if you’re gay.”

 

“I already told you. I’m not like that.”

 

God, Ryan doesn’t even want to say the word _gay_ , like maybe if he says it out loud it will change who he is. He doesn’t like the way that Jon kissed him once and is suddenly sure of the fact that Ryan is actually into guys. He doesn’t even want to think of being envious of how easy it was to come to that conclusion.

 

When Ryan dares to look up at Jon, he’s just giving Ryan another one of those “come on” kind smiles. Ryan stands up angrily because it’s not like he’s going to sit here and be accused, but then Jon gets up too, awkwardly pawing at the collar of Ryan’s shirt and pushing him into Jon’s chest so their lips meet harshly.

 

He’s completely caught off guard, which is definitely five times worse than at the party. Jon’s hands are soft at Ryan’s side, slowly moving up and down, creating an electrifying friction that makes Ryan _want_. Since they’re both completely sober this time, their lips move with more grace but everything still feels as feverish. When Jon’s fingers move to Ryan’s belt, he jolts to life, instantly pulling off, his heart beating embarrassingly fast.

 

“What the fuck?” Ryan yells. He wants to punch himself in the face. He just let that happen. He just—

 

“I’m sorry,” Jon says, letting out a long sigh. Ryan forces himself not look at his lips. “I just wanted to fucking prove it to you. It’s okay, Ryan. Jesus, don’t you get it?”

 

“Prove what? What do I not understand here?”

 

Jon just looks forlorn as he stares past Ryan, his mouth pulled into a purse. “Whatever, Ryan. Just…feel free to leave.”

 

Ryan does, stomping out the house as he does so. He spends the rest of the night locked in his bedroom staring at the ceiling, his thoughts nearly noxious. He falls asleep hazily thinking about Jon’s fingers.

 

***

 

The next night is Saturday, and Ryan ends up getting a text message from Jon apologizing and asking him to come to a party. Ryan doesn’t know how long he should actually let Jon insult him and then come crawling back. After spending twenty minutes weighing his options, Ryan decides that he’ll go but he’s got other plans than talking to Jon.

 

He doesn’t know the person who’s throwing the party, their apartment already cramped with drunken teenagers, but he figures he’s not the only one. Although he’s not much of a drinker, Ryan finds himself with a bottle of beer in his grip. He tries to mask the bitter face he makes whenever he takes a drink of it so he look somewhat normal.

 

Jon is easy to spot. He’s surrounded by a group of kids, all listening as he tells some story. When he notices Ryan, he smiles and motions for him to come over. Ryan just stares back at him, the memories of the other day rushing to him. He doesn’t think it’s right for Jon to just assume that.

 

Ryan awkwardly leans against a wall, hoping that maybe he just looks enigmatic instead of lonely. It must work because a girl walks up to him all smiley and little tipsy. She talks to him like she’s already his best friend, and when she starts to kiss Ryan, her lip gloss making everything sticky, he tries not to compare it to when he’s kissed Jon.

 

“Come on,” she says, grabbing his hand and leading him around the house until they find an empty room with a bed to use.

 

When it’s the girl who pushes him down on the bed, giggling loudly when their legs tangle together, Ryan feels like that should be his job. Ryan realizes he doesn’t even know this girl’s name and he’s about to lose his virginity with her.

 

Ryan might be a virgin, but he knows how this goes— _everybody_ knows how this goes—but it doesn’t stop his hands from fumbling when he takes off her bra. Then she’s just lying there on the bed with just a pair of lace panties on and Ryan knows this should be some kind of a victory. She’s pretty, and he knows it, hell, she’s even hot too. It still doesn’t feel right for Ryan. He guesses it could either be the fact that he’s just angry about Jon and he’s rushing this all, or something else that he doesn’t even want to think about.

 

After she has succeeded in getting Ryan naked and hard, he quickly goes through his wallet for the condoms that he father had given him in freshmen year like Ryan was actually going to get laid then. When Ryan touches her, his hands feel shaky and clammy, and he’s almost positive she can tell. His inexperience makes him blush and feel like an idiot but she has no problems guiding him.

 

And, yeah, Ryan thinks it feels good, but he still doesn’t think it feels right. The girl is moaning and scratching his back like he’s actually doing it right, and Ryan feels like he’s about to burst out into tears while he’s _fucking_ this girl.  


“Are you okay?” she whispers, her breathing heavy.

 

Ryan abruptly stops, realizing his cheeks are wet. If he wasn’t blushing before he definitely is now.

 

“It’s okay,” she tells him. “You don’t have to do this.”

 

He nods, rolling over and awkwardly getting changed as fast as he possibly can, his boner completely gone. He flees the room, knowing that he _really_ needs to leave or die or _something_. As if by magic, there is Jon, leaning against the house with a cigarette in-between his lips.

 

Jon smiles when he sees me, looking me over head to toes. “So,” he says casually. “How was it then?”

 

Ryan realizes he must have seen him leave with that girl. Ryan didn’t intend for him to see that. Ryan doesn’t know what to say, his mind completely on fire. He stands next to Jon and asks him for a cigarette, and once he has it lit he takes a long drag. He ends up bent over, choking and coughing, dropping the cigarette on accident.

 

“Lot of first times today, huh?” Jon says, putting his own cigarette out.

 

Ryan never told him he was a virgin, but he’s sure that Jon could’ve figured it out pretty easily. It still doesn’t keep Ryan from getting inexplicably upset.

 

“Fuck you,” he snarls. Why is he even still here? Why did he thinking coming tonight would be the cure to his melodramatic problems?

 

Jon keeps smirking until Ryan gets so upset that he thinks he going to punch Jon but all he ends up doing is angrily kissing him, his hands fisting the collar of Jon’s button up like he had done to Ryan yesterday. It’s just as exhilarating as it was before and nothing like kissing the girl, and when he pulls back this time, he doesn’t want to.

 

Ryan leaves the front porch as fast as he can. Everything definitely is on fire now.

 

***

 

 _I’m gay_ , Ryan thinks.

 

He cringes to himself. It sounds terrifying just to think it, and the thought of admitting it out loud or in front of a person makes his heart beat too fast.

 

It’s not like he’s completely come to the conclusion that he is gay, he’s just wondering if maybe it’s time to sit down and think about it. Ryan feels like he’s been ignoring it his entire life. Suddenly, here he is Sunday morning after the church service at a donut and coffee get-together, and this is when he decides to start sorting everything out.

 

His mother is at the other end of the table having a conversation with an older lady who spits when she talks, and it’s not like Ryan knows anyone at this church, so he sits alone and tries to come to terms with who he really is.

 

Sure, Ryan has a few reasons why he could be gay, but there are also a lot of reasons why he can’t be. The one that seems most obvious is that he doesn’t even look or seem like a gay guy. There’s no lisp or feminine tendencies that Ryan has in abundance. He acts and looks like a normal straight guy, and he always has.

 

Another reason, Ryan rationalizes, is that he’s young. He figures he’s probably just in that weird experimental stage that everyone goes through. It could make sense. He could very easily be a confused teenage boy who will later laugh at the thought of ever thinking he was actually gay.

 

Ryan goes further, pointing out to himself that he does _like_ girls, even despite last night’s events. He still gets nervous when talk to girls and he can tell which ones he likes and which ones he doesn’t. He’s always had silly crushes on girls.

 

He finally just gives up on thinking about it, and instead leans his head down on the table until someone taps his shoulder. Of course, it’s Brendon, giving him a wide smile. Just seeing Brendon around church now makes Ryan go all rigid and worried. He wonders if Brendon can just _tell_ when he looks at Ryan. Jon definitely thought he could tell.

 

“You looked bored over here,” Brendon observes. Ryan just shrugs, his mind still clouded with his own thoughts. “You’re not really into these kinds of things are you?”

 

“I’m just tired,” Ryan says. He doesn’t want to seem like that big of a douchebag because Brendon obviously _does_ care about these kinds of things.

 

Brendon doesn’t seem to quite believe Ryan. “Yeah,” he laughs out, looking down at the table and rubbing the back of his neck. If Ryan knew better, he’d assume that Brendon was nervous. “So, if you don’t like church, what _do_ you like?”  


Ryan freezes. He can’t tell if Brendon is being friendly or if he’s being _friendly_. Either way, the question makes his heart beat unreasonably fast, and when he tries to talk his words come out jumbled. “Um, well. I guess writing. You know, like, stuff.”

 

Brendon acts like he didn’t just hear Ryan completely fail at talking, and nods like he’s genuinely interested. “Yeah? What kind of stuff do you write?”

 

“It’s just.” Ryan feels his face grow hot. It’s not like he’s going to tell Brendon that the main thing he writes is his diary because that makes him sound like the biggest girl ever. “I write a little poetry. I tried writing a short story once…but I just lost interest in it.”  


“That’s really cool, man. I wish I could write and stuff. My worst class is English. You should let me read your stuff some time maybe,” Brendon says, voice getting quiet at the end, like he’s not sure if he can ask that.

 

“Yeah, maybe,” Ryan says. To be fair, though, he really doubts he’d let anyone read his writing because he doubts anyone but himself could make sense of all the words. “What do you like then?”

 

He’s successful in getting the conversation away from himself, and Brendon animatedly tells him about music, and how he started playing when he was young and did some stuff for youth group that made him want to have a band. He tells Ryan about how he writes songs and that he’s tried recording them on his phone, and Ryan makes sure to ask to listen to them.

 

They end up talking longer than Ryan expects them to, and when his mother approaches, a hopeful smile on her face, he realizes he doesn’t exactly want to stop talking to Brendon. Ryan’s disappointment must be apparent because Brendon is suddenly whipping out his phone and asking for Ryan’s number.

 

On the drive home, his mother thankfully doesn’t bring up Brendon. Ryan thinks of the way that Brendon looked so interested in every word that Ryan had to say. Ryan’s got a lot of things on him mind so he doesn’t decide to go _there_ , to where he’ll probably start making incorrect assumptions, and where he’ll just end up feeling like he’s being pulled in a million directions. Instead, he settles on remembering the way Brendon said he wanted to read Ryan’s writing.

 

***

 

At school, Jon doesn’t talk to him. Ryan only catches him looking at him curiously in some of the classes they share and at lunch. Ryan wants to say something, and maybe apologize for kissing him at the party, but it’s not like he wants to _talk_ about it.

 

He ends up just avoiding talking to anyone during the whole day and walks home alone. He’s tempted to send Brendon a text message, but he it’s only been one day since they’ve seen together, and technically they’ll see each other again on Sunday. It’s not like Ryan wants to come off as clingy.

 

Before Ryan makes it past the convenient store down the road from his school, Jon is catching up with him, out of breath when he makes it next to Ryan.

 

“Hey,” Jon says when he’s caught his breath.

 

Ryan doesn’t know what to say so he doesn’t say anything.

 

“Look, you’re the one that kissed me this time,” Jon says loudly, making Ryan blush.

 

“Shut up,” he squeaks. He looks around to make sure no one is around to have heard that, and thankfully no one is.

 

Jon laughs. “Do you want to hang out today?”

 

Ryan looks down the ground as he keeps walking towards his house. He kind of does want to hang out with him, but he also doesn’t want to know what could happen if he did go over to his house. Ryan doesn’t exactly feel in control of what he does anymore.

 

“Is that a no then?” Jon replies to his silence.

 

Before he can answer Ryan’s phone buzzes in his pocket and he pulls it out to see what it is, despite the look he’s getting from Jon. On the screen, he has a message from Brendon asking him to meet him at the Starbucks down the road in ten minutes.

 

“Maybe another day,” Ryan says, containing the smile that wants to spread on his face.

 

Jon looks annoyed but still leaves Ryan alone, walking off into a different direction. Ryan tries not to rush, but he’s excited to meet Brendon. He figures that Brendon must have obviously enjoyed talking to Ryan if he wants to see him again so soon. It gives Ryan a hint of confidence as he walks into the Starbucks.

 

When he sees that Brendon isn’t there yet, he goes to the front and buys himself a strawberry smoothie and sits in the seats across from the windows of the store’s front. Brendon walks in after a few minutes of waiting and gives him a bright smile before motioning to the front and goes to buy himself.

 

“Sorry, if I would have gotten here earlier I would’ve totally paid for yours. Do you not like coffee?” Brendon asks when he’s not returned, giving Ryan’s drink an inquisitive look. He seems worried that he’s picked the wrong place.

 

“Um,” Ryan says quietly. “Not really. But, it’s okay.”

 

Brendon nods, smiling bigger than he did when he came in. Ryan realizes that Brendon is just one of those people that naturally always smiles. It’s completely unlike himself, who usually looks angry when he really isn’t most of the time.

 

“So, how has your day been?”

 

Ryan spent the entire day completely stuck in his mind, thinking about the situation with Jon or about the fact he has three different assignments due on Friday. He’s decides not to tell Brendon the truth, which is what Ryan figures most people do when they get asked these kind of questions, and says, “It was fine. How about you?”

 

“Crazy,” Brendon says, laughing a little for emphasis. “God, I got up late and missed the eight o’clock bus and had to haul ass to school. And then I forgot about a quiz I had in law. Then, I had to stay in the lab all lunch to finish an article for English, and I got this massive headache which was probably from not drinking coffee like I usually do in the morning. So, that leads me here.”  


Ryan is kind of blown away by Brendon’s honesty. It’s not like every day he has people telling him exactly what happened in their life. Brendon seems a little embarrassed once he’s said it all, though, and coughs a little before taking a sip of his coffee.

 

“Wow,” Ryan mutters, unsure of how to reply to all of this.

 

“Sorry,” Brendon replies, shaking his head a little. “I don’t usually do these kinds of things.” Ryan gives him a questioning look because he’s not exactly sure what he’s referring to. “You know, asking guys I’ve only really talked to once on a date. It’s just, well, it’s not—“  


“A _date_?” Ryan repeats, his whole face draining of color. Ryan’s head just falls into a giant mess of fuckfuckfuckfuck.

 

“I thought…” Brendon trails on. He’s obviously just as confused and embarrassed as Ryan is.

 

And Ryan thinks for a split second if he should just pretend like he knows what is going on in his life, and that he should just tell Brendon the unabridged version of what he’s been thinking lately, but all that comes out is, “I’m not…” Of course Ryan still can’t say it.

 

“Oh,” Brendon sighs. Ryan watches as Brendon’s whole face falls in complete devastation at the realization of what Ryan’s just told him. “Oh, wow, I’m really sorry. I just—I assumed, you know, and. I fucked up.”

 

Ryan finds himself really wishing he could take it back. He’s still not sure about being gay, though. He doesn’t want to tell Brendon and be wrong, especially when Ryan feels like it _has_ to be wrong, because Ryan honestly can’t really be gay. Ryan can’t look at how sad and embarrassed Brendon looks as he bites is lip in front of him.

 

“I feel so stupid,” Brendon says quietly.

 

“No, I…Should have known. Or something,” Ryan mutters. Though, Ryan’s not sure if he really would have realized that he was on date if Brendon wouldn’t have said anything. He figures maybe he could have guessed with the invite to a coffee shop and Brendon wanting to pay, but he just thought he was friendly. “I mean, we can still be friends?”

 

Ryan doesn’t mean for it to come out as a question, and when Brendon cringes, he regrets even saying it. “Yeah,” Brendon finally says, but it sounds forced. “That would be cool. I just—I feel like I should leave.”

 

There’s a long silence that nearly makes Ryan vomit out what he actually wants to say, but he just ends up saying, “Okay.”

 

After Brendon leaves , Ryan stays in the Starbucks for another fifteen minutes before making himself leave.  

 

***

 

Brendon doesn’t contact Ryan for the whole week. Once Friday rolls around, and when Ryan accidently bumps into Brendon in the hallways, apologizing automatically until he realizes it’s him and then Brendon practically runs away, Ryan bitterly realizes that he’s ruined his chances.

 

He spends Saturday night at his house, listening to the hum of the living room TV, his parents not fighting for once. He tries to write in his journal, but he stops when he realizes his words don’t have any form of masks. He never likes to write things down exactly as they sound in his head. He needs for everything to be written with pretty words and to only hold the truth if someone looks deep enough for it.

 

So, really, Ryan doesn’t exactly write that he’s confused if he actually straight, but he does write something about how he wishes his head would’ve been wired right.

 

When he wakes up in the morning, his phone buzzing beside him from the alarm set, Ryan kind of wants to die from embarrassment. It was bad enough having to realize he was dreaming about Brendon in compromising positions, but then it only gets worse when he moves to get up and figures out he’s had a _wet_ dream.

 

It’s not like Ryan doesn’t jerk off because he does, but really only when he’s stressed or can’t fall asleep. Besides that, he tries to steer clear of it. It nearly always makes him angry whenever he does. Ryan’s always had then problem where he doesn’t know what exactly to fantasize about, and if he thinks about too much it just makes him furious.

 

So, here he is on a Sunday morning, an hour before he’s expected to go to _church_ , with dirty sheets and a mind full of Brendon Urie doing unmentionable things to him in bed. Ryan figures if God is real, then he’s seriously sending him straight to hell.

 

He gets ready in a rush and by the time they get to church, they’re ten minutes late, and up sitting in the back. Ryan still manages to find Brendon’s head a few rows ahead. He nods every few minutes when the priest says something he agrees with. Ryan doesn’t mean to watch him the entire time, but it does give him something to do.

 

Once they get released, Ryan’s mother walking off to talk to her friends, Ryan walks around until he finds Brendon chatting to a girl their age. When Brendon notices Ryan, he quickly ends the conversation and gives him a dull smile. It’s nothing like the one he gave Ryan at the coffee shop before everything went downhill.

 

“You’ve been avoiding me,” Ryan says stupidly. He doesn’t even know what else to say, though.

 

Brendon shrugs, looking a bit annoyed. “I just feel stupid.”

 

It would only make sense for Brendon to be embarrassed, and probably a bit frustrated that Ryan just won’t ignore the whole thing and pretend like it didn’t happen, but obviously he doesn’t want to give up.

 

“That makes two of us,” Ryan confesses.

 

“I should probably…” Brendon trails on, looking across the room to an older woman who looks to be his mother.

 

Ryan grabs his arm before he can bolt away but Brendon jerks back from the touch looking mildly offended. “Wait,” Ryan says. He doesn’t want to regret just letting Brendon get away. “Wednesday. We should hang out. You can come over to my house or something.”

 

It takes a few moments, ones where Brendon looks a little shocked, before he chokes out, “Yeah. I can probably come over.”

 

“I’ll text you.”  


Ryan finally lets out a sigh.

 

***

 

For a while, things seem to go right for Ryan. During the next two weeks, he spends time with Brendon, finally feeling like he’s actually connected to a person. Ryan wakes up early for church on Sundays, actually feeling excited to get there and to just see Brendon’s head while the priest goes on and on. At school, Brendon sometimes even eats lunch with him and introduces Ryan to a few of his friends.

 

Even if things do feel good, there’s always that constant reminder that Brendon’s gay. Ryan obviously doesn’t care, but there’s still moments where he’ll completely forget, like when they went to the mall and Brendon casually mentioned how hot the cashier at Hot Topic was (and how Ryan secretly agreed with him). Ryan painfully wants to ask questions so maybe he can figure things out for himself, but he’s too scared Brendon will either laugh or completely understand them.

 

As much fun as Ryan has while hanging out with Brendon, he’s still very aware of how people will perceive the situation. Brendon is out and proud and everyone that’s met Brendon at school knows. Ryan feels like people are automatically assuming that he too is gay for being so close to Brendon all of a sudden. Ryan even wonders if people think they’re dating or something.

 

No one ask, though, not until Jon corners Ryan in the restroom on a Friday afternoon.

 

“So,” he says, hips cocked in Ryan’s direction. “Getting pretty close to Urie, huh?”

 

Ryan ignores him as he washes his hands, closely watching Jon’s reflection in the mirror.

 

“What was I to you, then? Was I you’re practice round?” Jon spits. “Did you need to make sure you were actually gay before you got with Brendon?”

 

Ryan turns around angrily. “I’m not with Brendon.”

 

“ _Yeah_ , like how you ‘weren’t’ gay?”

 

“I’m not either of those things, so fuck you.”

 

Ryan tries to walk off, to maybe eventually shake the entire event, but Jon stops him, pushing him up against a wall and ramming his arm against Ryan’s neck. Ryan splutters for air, his windpipe being pushed down. Jon eases off just enough so Ryan can breathe, but he looks like he’s one word from letting Ryan choke.

 

“When will you admit it, Ryan?” he spits. “You’re a faggot, alright? A faggot who had a disgusting crush on me.”  


Ryan tries to push against him, his hands grappling uselessly against his chest. Jon just pushes against him enough so that Ryan is actually choking. He suddenly pulls back, giving Ryan a dirty look.

 

“Don’t ever talk to me again,” he says before leaving.

 

Ryan leans against the wall he was pushed against for a few too many minutes long. When he finally does move, enough so that he can catch his face in the mirror, his cheeks wet and flushed, he wants to die right then. He feels disgusting. He is disgusting.

 

And, just like that, his head is on fire again, even the parts he always thought were safe.

 

***

 

Even after a couple days, Brendon can tell something’s wrong with Ryan. They’re at Brendon’s house, an episode of CSI Miami playing on the living room TV, but Brendon is just staring at Ryan with confused eyes.

 

“Are you gonna tell me what happened?” he asks lazily.

 

“Nothing happened,” Ryan says automatically. He doesn’t talk to people about his feelings, especially when they make him look so goddamn vulnerable. He does tell Brendon a lot, more than he tells a lot of people considering they’ve really only been friends for nearly a month.

 

“Come on,” Brendon says, nudging Ryan in the shoulder.

 

“I don’t want to talk about it.”  


“So there is something?” Brendon smiles but then looks hesitant. “Is this about that Jon guy by any chance?”

 

Ryan’s whole stomach drops. He’s never even mentioned Jon to Brendon before. He tries to think of some kind of a reason why it would never be about Jon, but all that comes out is, “What about Jon?”

 

Brendon starts to blush, only making Ryan completely worried. “It’s, just, he came up to me at lunch and said some stuff about you to me.”  


“Oh my god,” Ryan breathes out, instantly crumpling, putting his head in hands.

 

He can’t even begin to imagine what all Jon would tell Brendon. Ryan thought he was doing so well hiding himself from Brendon, too. He didn’t want for Brendon to find out that he was some weird kid who couldn’t even figure out if he was gay or not. Now, it’s too late. Jon must have told Brendon everything.

 

“Look,” Brendon mutters, suddenly sounding closer. He places a careful hand on Ryan’s back. “I don’t care about the things he told me, Ryan. He seems like a huge douchebag.” There’s a long pause, where Brendon is probably expecting Ryan to say _something_ , but he’s just met with more silence. “And if you’re, like, confused and stuff I’m always here to talk to. Just so you know.”  


Ryan is completely embarrassed and terrified, but he’s _not_ going to start crying. His whole chest feels tight, though, and he wishes Brendon would have just pretended he never heard it. He doesn’t want to be “confused” because it sounds so pathetic and childish. He just wants to _know_ , and he definitely doesn’t want to talk to Brendon about it.

 

“Ryan?” Brendon says, his hand still moving circles on Ryan’s back.

 

He abruptly pulls away, standing up and wrapping his arms around his torso, making sure to not make eye contact with Brendon. “I’m just gonna leave now…”

 

Brendon doesn’t argue, and when Ryan is finally outside and halfway down the road he figures it’s probably safe to cry.

 

***

 

Ryan’s so scared to go to church and deal with Brendon the next day that he pretends to be sick. His mother looks worried, enough so that she might stay home and make Ryan soup or something, but after light persuasion she goes without him. All he really wants to do is fall back asleep so he doesn’t have to _think_ , but his eyes don’t feel nearly heavy enough.

 

He feels almost like he’s lying all of a sudden. He knows he should just tell his mother about who he is (or at least who he _probably_ is) but he’s not so sure of what happens after he tells her. It’s not like he’s worried that his parents will hate him or kick him out for being gay, no, he’s worried about himself. He doesn’t want to go through the whole ordeal of telling everyone, and then fall for a girl and just assume all of this was a phase. Ryan doesn’t want to be wrong about this.

 

There was always Brendon to look for help from, but it obviously still isn’t Ryan’s top choice. Ryan then realizes, though, that Brendon at least knows. Sure, he doesn’t know everything, but he at least has his assumptions. Ryan realizes that if he could be as honest as he wanted to be around Brendon. The thought sounds completely absurd.

 

Ryan bolts up, quickly throwing on his nicest clothes that are clean and jumping into his car. Ryan drives ten over the speed limit, but he still only makes it to church with fifteen minutes of the service left. He enters quietly and finds a seat in the back, completely out of breath.

 

Nothing is unlike every other Sunday, and Ryan spends the fifteen minutes not listening. He does, though, have that long to figure out if he’s actually going to go through with his stupid, impulsive plan. When he spots Brendon when the service ends, he knows he’s going to do it.

 

His mother’s definitely surprised that he’s made it, but he brushes her off and explains that he’ll be home late, then goes off to find Brendon. Sure enough, he’s in the usual spot where he waits for Ryan. He’s talking to the same elderly couple that Ryan had seen him with when he found out Brendon was gay.

 

“I just can’t figure out how to turn it off, Bren. You’re going to have to come over sometime and try to fix it,” the woman says, shaking her head and laughing before coughing into her fist. When she notices Ryan is awkwardly waiting to talk to Brendon she gives him a big smile and looks back to Brendon. “Well, I can see you have a _friend_ waiting. We’ll be leaving.”

 

Ryan’s face goes completely red as he watches Brendon hug them before they leave. Brendon gives Ryan a shy smile, looking down the ground in embarrassment before muttering, “They’re my grandparents,” and then, “I saw you’re mom when I was coming in. She said you were sick.”

 

“I was going to sleep in,” Ryan lies. “But here I am, anyway.”

 

“Alright,” Brendon says, looking confused.

 

“I was wondering if you wanted to go get breakfast,” Ryan finally spits out.

 

Brendon grins, and after a few beats nods his head. “I’ll have to tell my mom, but yeah, I’d like to.”

 

Ryan nearly trips when Brendon and he walk up to Brendon and Ryan’s mothers having a conversation. When his mother smiles at him, he feels completely guilty, like she suddenly knows everything.

 

“Mom, we’re going out to breakfast,” Brendon tells her casually. Before he turns around he goes, “Don’t forget to get milk!”  


Brendon wordlessly follows Ryan to his car, and when Ryan pulls up to IHOP he feels completely stupid for not asking Brendon where he wanted to go. He watches Brendon unbuckle his seatbelt looking appeased, so he figures he must’ve chose something right.

 

Once they’re seated, the waiter taking their drink order, Ryan fiddles with the plastic menu, not sure how to word everything. He’s about to just abort his mission, but then Brendon giggles about one of the names of a children’s meals, and Ryan figures that it can’t be that hard.

 

“So,” Brendon says after a few minutes of silence. “What’s up about—“  


“I think I’m gay.”  


Ryan closes his eyes, resisting the urge to slam his head against the table. And, God, he figured he would have a little more tact than _that_. Brendon looks amused, though, a small smile blooming on his face like he’s trying to suppress it.

 

“That’s…good,” Brendon says, laughing a little at the end.

 

Brendon’s laugh breaks the tension just enough to make it feels like Ryan can actually breathe again. He doesn’t exactly know why Brendon thinks it’s a good thing to be confused but he still manages to awkwardly get out, “I’ve known…for a long I think. I’m just now, you know.”

 

“So am I the first person you’ve told this to?” Brendon asks, taking a sip from his water.

 

Ryan can still feel how hot his face is, and figures Brendon is just being polite and not pointing it out. He just nods to his question, still picking at the menu awkwardly. The waiter reappears with their drinks and takes their order before leaving them alone again.

 

Ryan watches as Brendon tears off one side of the straw wrapper before blowing into it in Ryan’s direction playfully. The wrapper hits Ryan’s chest and then flutters back onto the table. It makes Ryan feel a little better, a small smile finding its way onto his face.

 

“You know, you don’t have to look so worried,” Brendon says. “I obviously understand so stop looking so embarrassed, Jesus, Ryan.”

 

“Sorry, I can’t help it,” Ryan mutters, only feeling more embarrassed.

 

They don’t end up talking until the waiter comes back with their food. Ryan’s head is full of questions that have been stuck inside for months, but he feels like they all sound naïve and trivial. He doesn’t exactly want a repeat of how stupid he felt when he actually Googled ‘how to tell if you’re gay’ and only read annoyingly inspirational quotes about waiting. Ryan doesn’t want to _wait_ , he just wants the nerve to ask Brendon questions.

 

Brendon puts syrup on his chocolate chip pancakes, but doesn’t take a bite. He just gives Ryan a long look. “Will you feel better if I tell you an embarrassing story? Like, _really_ embarrassing.”

 

Ryan shrugs and mutters, “Sure,” before taking a bite of his crepe.

 

“Alright, so, when I decided that I was finally going to come out to my parents I thought of the brilliant idea of just getting it over with in front of my entire family.” Brendon laughs before cringing. “God, it was such a stupid idea. Granted, it was three years ago and I was _fourteen_ years old.

 

Anyways, I waited until Thanksgiving when all my family gotten together to have nice meal and when we were all served and after we prayed, I just told everyone that I was gay. And I don’t remember what exactly I thought they would react, but it was literally five minutes of complete shock. I mean, they were okay with it, but they spent the rest of the meal talking about different things they noticed about me that made me gay.”

 

Ryan’s not sure if he’s really supposed to feel better after the story because, in all honesty, he only just feels completely terrified at the thought of telling his parents or family. Besides that, he does feel like it will be easier to open up to Brendon after he was so honest.

 

“The moral of the story,” Brendon says, laughing when Ryan does smile. “is that you should never come out to everyone at once. Also, those six years of dance classes don’t make me gay, even if my family likes to think that.”

 

Ryan burst out laughing, covering his mouth with his hand to stifle how loud he is. “You took _six_ years of dance?”

 

“Fuck you,” Brendon says easily. “Okay, maybe it’s a little gay.”

 

***

 

The fire in Ryan’s head seems to fade for a while. He knows it’s still there and that it could definitely get worse. He enjoys the break he does have, though. Things with Brendon get noticeably better. Ryan feels like he can actually talk to someone for once in his life and be honest. Ryan barely has time to notice the way he starts to get nervous whenever he’s around Brendon and how he’ll be scared that Brendon’s found someone new to talk to when he doesn’t reply to his texts after two minutes.

 

One night when Ryan goes to Brendon’s house, he finds Brendon in the kitchen with an apron on, his parents at the table with smug smiles on their faces.

 

“I’m cooking us dinner!” Brendon announces wearing a goofy grin. He holds up a salt shaker for emphasis before going back to seasoning a slab of meat.

 

Ryan sits down next to Brendon’s parents who smile kindly at him before resuming a conversation. He watches Brendon move around the kitchen and ends up laughing when he nearly spills a pot of potatoes. Brendon turns around and raises an eyebrow.

 

“Come here,” he says, handing Ryan a strainer.

 

He helps Brendon finish making the meal, both of them giggling like two little kids the entire time. When they put the plates on the table, Ryan realizes that Brendon’s parents are amused by the two of them. Ryan blushes, his mind going into a million places, so scared that they actually think Ryan’s gay. Suddenly, though, Ryan realizes that it doesn’t really matter. Brendon’s parents obviously accept him.

 

Ryan figures that he could probably kiss Brendon right now and his parents wouldn’t bat an eyelash, and the thought makes Ryan feels so completely full of relief.

 

They all hold hands when they give grace, and Brendon’s grip tightens when he thanks God for bringing Ryan into his life. Ryan definitely silently thanks God for bringing Brendon into his life.

 

“You know,” Mrs. Urie says, eyes flicking back and forth between Brendon and Ryan. “You’re both very cute.”  


Neither Brendon nor Ryan corrects her, and Ryan’s not exactly sure what that means.

 

Later on, after they’ve watched Brokeback Mountain together (something Brendon insisted they do so Ryan can get caught up on the mainstream gay things) they’re lying in bed, shoulders touching in silence. The night feels like it’s a dream for Ryan, and the thought of having to go home where his parents are undoubtedly fighting so he can scribble in his journal seems so awful.

 

“Would you fuck Jake Gyllenahaal?” Brendon asks sleepily.

 

Ryan nearly splutters because it’s not like he gets asked these kinds of questions often. He finally gets out, “I would fuck Donnie Darko Jake Gyllenhaal.”  


Brendon looks towards him and starts laughing, his body somehow getting closer to Ryan’s. He’s hyperaware of everything, like the way Brendon’s body heat feel and how Brendon’s breath feels on his shoulder. “That’s a great answer.”

 

“Thanks.”  


They sit in a comfortable silence until Brendon opens his mouth again. “What kind of guys _do_ you wanna fuck?”

 

Ryan feels so shocked by the question that he playfully pushes Brendon and yells, “Brendon!”  


“What? I’m just a curious friend. Maybe I can set you up with someone,” he mutters.

 

He pauses, realizing that he doesn’t want to be set up with anyone. Ryan’s crush for Brendon becomes completely unbearable in that moment. “Alright,” Ryan says quietly. “Well, they have to have dark hair, like, almost black. And a big nose and lips. They sometimes have to wear really dorky glasses and—“  


“Ryan!” Brendon mimics Ryan, voice high like a girl. “If you wanted me you just had to ask.”

 

Ryan rolls his eyes and smiles to himself before turning his head to glare at Brendon. He ends up being much closer to Brendon than he expects, and their foreheads are nearly touching. “Brendon,” Ryan whispers. “Can I have you?”  


It’s obvious Brendon isn’t sure if Ryan’s being serious (Ryan isn’t really sure either) but he does lean forward just enough to kiss Ryan’s forehead.

 

Ryan can’t even contain himself so ends up putting a hand on Brendon’s cheek to make sure he stays and then leans in to kiss him. Ryan doesn’t have time to think of all the cliché feelings, but he _knows_ he’s feeling them. Brendon’s lips are soft and inviting even if he’s the one pulling away and sitting up, leaving Ryan puckering his lips like an idiot.

 

“Ryan,” he says softly. He’s running his hand through his hair and looking worried. Ryan realizes this is what rejection feels like. “I don’t want to confuse you.”  


He cringes and almost ends up screaming that Brendon _has_ been confusing him. It wasn’t necessarily Brendon who had started it all, but he was very much a contributing factor to the fire that’s always burning in his head.

 

Brendon ends up sleeping on the floor and giving Ryan his bed for the night.

 

***

 

They resolutely do not talk about the kiss.

 

Ryan goes back to eating lunch by himself instead of eating with Brendon and his friends like he had been doing. It hurts more than Ryan wants to admit, but he figures he needs to figure things out before he goes crawling back to Brendon. He’s just not sure how long that’s going to take.

 

There was short period of time (admittedly probably only a few days) where Ryan was sure that he was gay, and he couldn’t believe that he never realized it before. When he stopped seeing Brendon 24/7 though, he wonders if maybe he’s wrong.

 

Even after his catastrophic first time with a girl, he still can vaguely see himself with them. Ryan knows that he was just being stupid and impulsive, and maybe if he found a girl he really loved the sex would be great. There’s still a part of him that thinks of the stark differences it was to kissing a boy to a girl. Suddenly, Ryan thinks he’s right and wrong at the same time.

 

He gets stuck in his head for a whole week, his journal chock full of pages of nonsense. It’s just embarrassing, and by the time Ryan’s awake at three in the morning on Sunday he just wants to rip all the pages out and burn them. He takes a quick nap before church since his head is roaring and fingers are too numb to write anymore.

 

Ryan’s mother is quiet when they get into the car. She has a pop station playing softly, and Ryan leans his head against the cold glass of the window and tries not to decipher the lewd raps.

 

“Brendon’s mother seems to really like you, you know,” his mother says, glancing over with a smile on her face. “She talks very fondly of you.”  


Ryan tries not to make it obvious how he freezes and pales. Brendon’s mother still thinks that Ryan and Brendon are a couple. Ryan’s always known that their mothers talk, but he never really thought that she would say anything about it to her. Now, the idea of him being outed by _Brendon’s_ _mom_ is terrifying.

 

“You and Brendon seem really close,” she continues. Ryan’s so scared his mother is just going to say it and get it over, but she only goes on to say, “I’m really glad you’re making friends again.”

 

There’s no emphasis on friend, and that is enough to make Ryan breathe a sigh of relief. She might suspect it, but there really is no proof.

 

Ryan pauses. He doesn’t quite understand himself in that moment. He knows he’s gay, practically wrote five pages of that fact alone last night, and he doesn’t know why he feels like it’s physically impossible to just tell his mother of it now.

 

Ryan races away from the car and towards the church and he feels like he’s done this a million times for a million different reasons. He quickly goes to the empty male’s bathroom and hides in one of the stalls, pulling out his phone to text Brendon to meet him there. It only takes a few minutes for the bathroom door to be pushed open, and when Ryan exits the stall, he find Brendon giving him a strange look.

 

“Service is about to start,” he announces quietly.

 

“I wanna tell my parents today.”

 

Brendon blinks a few times. “Tell them what?”  


Somehow, just Brendon saying this calms Ryan, and he even manages to smile. “That I’m gay.”  


“That’s good, Ryan. Is that the only reason you arranged this little secret meeting, or?”

 

Ryan tries not to be offended by Brendon’s lack of interest, and instead crosses the space between them and doesn’t even wait for acceptance from Brendon. He kisses him, hands awkwardly clutching the bottom of Brendon’s shirt. Instead of pulling away like he did the last time, he pushes closer, placing a careful hand on Ryan’s shoulder. Maybe Ryan didn’t completely think through kissing Brendon, but his answer only becomes more clear than it did before.

 

When they pull apart for air, their faces only a few centimeters apart, they both crack into grins.

 

“I’m definitely gay,” Ryan whispers, laughing into the crook of Brendon’s neck, arms now securely around his middle.

 

“I was so right when I met you,” Brendon tells Ryan through laughs. “I can’t believe you rejected me.”  


They’ve never really talked about that day, but now they just laugh about it. “Sorry about that,” he says.

 

“I’m sure you can make up for it.” Brendon looks towards the door. “We should probably get back.”

 

“Wait, Brendon, how do I do it? How should I come out?”

 

Brendon cocks his head in thought and then says, “Okay, you’re going to come home from church and you’re going to make your parents lunch. It doesn’t have to be fancy, but they’ll appreciate the gesture and know something’s up. And as you’re eating just casually mention how great of an ass I have and—“  
  
Ryan shoves Brendon away. “You’re an idiot.”  


“And you probably get where I’m going with this.”  


He figures that Brendon is right, and the making lunch thing doesn’t sound like that bad of an idea, even if the thought of actually telling them still makes him shiver a little.

 

“Why do I have to?” Ryan asks quietly. He’s been thinking about coming out for a while. He realized (around page three of his journal writing) that he was probably going to have to come out for a long time before everyone he knew all knew. It seems like such a silly thing to announce, how he has to sit his parents down just to tell them that he doesn’t prefer girls.

 

“You’ll feel better afterwards,” Brendon says. “And besides, your mom probably already knows.” When Ryan gives Brendon a terrified look, he laughs and says, “No one told her. Moms just know those kinds of things.”

 

After a few more moments, Brendon and Ryan wordlessly exit the bathroom and find their regular spots as the priest continues talking. Ryan zones him out and tries to think about how exactly he’s going to do this.

 

***

 

Ryan’s not exactly a pro chef.

 

His mother used to teach him how to make basic things like pancakes and chocolate chip cookies, but he’s essentially clueless when it comes to regular cooking skills. He strains the noodles and pours water all over because he’s so nervous about his announcement.

 

When his spaghetti is finished, he sets out the dishes and waits nervously for his parent’s critiques, and he figures it’s probably going to be the same way when he tells his parents he’s gay. They take a few bites before actually nodding and congratulating him on it.

 

“So, do you want something, then?” his mother asks, laughing before taking a sip of water.

 

Ryan watches as his father joins in as he twirls noodles around his fork. “Yeah, what is it, Ryan? Or are you just interested in cooking now?”

 

“Cooking obviously isn’t my thing,” Ryan confesses. “I just thought you guys would like it…”  


Ryan’s about two seconds from chickening out because there is no easy segue into the whole “I’m gay” thing, but then both of his parents cock their heads at him. They obviously think something is up, so he might as well get it off his chest.

 

“I feel stupid, like, having to announce it.” His mother gives him a weird look, and Ryan can’t even bear to look at his father. “But, um, I just wanted to tell you guys that I’m gay.”  


Ryan doesn’t even think his mother really processes what he says before she goes, “ _Oh_.” He looks over to his father for a moment, but he just nods and looks like he’s already accepted it. When he turns back to his mother, she’s got a knowing smile on her face.

 

“Did you know?” Ryan chokes out.

 

“Well, I had my suspicions,” she says. “Grace mentioned that Brendon was gay and I just kind of assumed you two were a couple with all the time you spend together.”

 

“You have a boyfriend?” his father instantly asks. Ryan blushes. “What do his parents do? Is he planning to go to college? We need to have him over for dinner.”  


Ryan realizes that he can most definitely deal with this.

 

***

 

It’s not until the next day when Ryan is at Brendon’s house after school, that he realizes something is off. Mulan is playing on Brendon’s TV, but Brendon is actually hunched over a physics textbook trying to finish his homework. Ryan tries not to make it obvious how he just stares at Brendon, from the way his hair is getting long so it curls upwards at the end, or the way his shirts just barely rides up, exposing pale skin.

 

Something clicks for Ryan, though, enough so that he even says, “Oh my god,” out loud.

 

Brendon instantly looks up, worried expression on his face. “What?” he asks.

 

Ryan laughs. Brendon is actually worried about him, and it’s just this miniscule thing. “Nothing, sorry.”

 

“What is it, Ry?” Brendon asks again. Ryan kind of melts when he hears his nickname.

 

“It’s just.” Ryan swallows. He knows this is about to sounds absolutely ridiculous. “For a really long time I’ve felt like my head was on fire, and just now I realized the feeling was gone.”  


Brendon gives him a confused look before laughing. “Your head was on fire?”  


Ryan tries not to blush. “No, like, my brain. I don’t know. It’ stupid, whatever, I—“  


“No, it’s not stupid,” Brendon says, abandoning his textbook and crawling up on the couch next to Ryan. “It makes sense. So if it’s a gone, that’s a good thing, right?”

 

He nods. It is a good thing. For how long it’s been troubling Ryan, the realization that things might finally be okay again settles inside him nicely.

 

Brendon’s still staring at Ryan, eyes clouded over like he doesn’t even realize what it is he’s doing. Ryan looks down to his fingers for a moment, thinking that maybe Brendon will snap out of it, but when he looks back up, Brendon’s still doing it, eyes now freely roaming his face.

 

“I really like you,” Brendon finally says. “And I didn’t want to do anything while you were confused. But now, I just…”

 

“Then ask me on a date.”

 

Brendon laughs. “I already did. And you told me you weren’t gay.”

 

“Maybe this time I’ll actually know I’m on a date.”

 

“Okay, well, then do you want to go on a date with me?”

 

Ryan just smiles and hopes Brendon already knows the answer.

 

***

 

Brendon’s car smells good, and is clean, and the music he plays is all pop junk that he knows all the lyrics to and plays at obscene volumes. Ryan kind of loves it admittedly.

 

They spent the night at a dark restaurant that didn’t even seem fazed that they were so blatantly on a date. It was awkward at first, mainly because Ryan’s never been on a date before and he wasn’t sure what was proper etiquette. Thankfully, the night got easier, and now they are pulling up to Brendon’s house, a song about a one night stand coming to a finish.

 

Brendon screams the last few words before slowly turning the keys to the ignition. “Very catchy song,” he tells me, giggling like a little kid, and then saying, “My parent’s car isn’t here. Weird.”  


Before Ryan even gets to say anything, Brendon turns to give him a devilish grin. “Wanna come inside?” he asks.

 

Ryan rolls his eyes but still gets out of the car, following Brendon to the door and watching him dig through is pockets for a key. The lights are all off when they get inside and there is a note taped to the wall next to the door that tells Brendon they’ll be gone until midnight.

 

“Shit,” Brendon mutters, reading it over. “I think my parents just gave me time to, like, give you a handjob or something.”

 

“Brendon!” Ryan says. He doesn’t want to admit that he’s blushing.

 

“Do you not want that because that would be…”  


“No.” Ryan cringes. “I mean, obviously. I just really doubt that your parents would leave for the night just so you could fuck me.”

 

“Woah, now we’re fucking _and_ you’re bottoming?” Brendon asks with faux disbelief. Ryan just rolls his eyes. “No, but seriously, I think they did so we should take advantage of this.”

 

They stand in silence for a few moments. Ryan was mainly joking about Brendon fucking him, but now that he’s mentioned, it doesn’t sound all that bad, and Brendon is just _looking_ at him all weirdly, like he kind of wants to pounce or something and—

 

Brendon steps forward and pulls Ryan in for a kiss, his hands warm on Ryan’s sides. Ryan suddenly gets a million times more scared of what’s going to happen during the night. The last time he did something sexual it ended up with him in tears. He knows Brendon is different, though, and not just because he’s a guy.

 

When they pull apart, they’re both breathing heavily, their bodies somehow much closer than they were before. Brendon’s body heat feels like it’s a million times hotter than it should be.

 

“Hey,” Brendon whispers, his face too close to Ryan’s. It only makes him more worried. “You know, you don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.”  


Brendon’s words sound similar to the one’s he heard when he lost his virginity. When he heard them last time it was the best thing ever, but now, it only makes him blush. “No. I want to. I just.” Ryan chokes up. He doesn’t actually want to admit why he’s scared but he ends up saying, “It’s just, you know.”

 

“I don’t know. What is it?”

 

Ryan pointedly looks away from Brendon. “I’ve never done this before.”

 

Brendon smiles, but not in a mocking way, and then says, “If it makes you feel any better, I’ve only done this twice.”

 

Ryan definitely wants to ask about who it was with, or if was two different people, but he keeps his mouth shut and just nods because it does make him feel a little better. Brendon grabs his hand and pulls him to his bedroom, shutting the door and locking it before turning back to Ryan.

 

“You sure about this?” Brendon double checks.

 

Ryan nods and then finds himself on the bed with Brendon on top of him. He’s grinding down just enough so their crotches touch, and Ryan embarrassingly pushes himself up to greedily get more friction. Brendon smiles into the kiss.

 

Brendon’s hands touch the skin under Ryan’s shirt for a few minutes before just pulling it completely off. Ryan feels like this is his cue to do the same to Brendon, and copies his motions until they’re both shirtless and their skin is sliding against each other.

 

Ryan’s head used to feel like it was on fire, but now it’s his skin against Brendon’s.

 

After being shrugged out of his pants, Brendon rubs the bulge in Ryan’s boxers. This only makes Ryan let out the most desperate noise ever. Ryan’s known how much he wanted this (if the amount of wet dreams he has about Brendon mean anything) but suddenly his craving for it all is multiplied. He never really thought it would actually happen.

 

Brendon slips a hand down Ryan’s boxers at an awkward angle and wraps his hand around his length, making Ryan jerk forward to get _more_. Brendon tightens his grip, letting at a little laugh when Ryan moans again, his hands twisting into the bedspread.

 

“You should…” Ryan doesn’t know how to ask, or if he even _should_ ask. “Maybe we can.” He groans, half in pure frustration and the other half from Brendon’s hand that’s still moving up and down on him.

 

“Okay,” Brendon finally nods, even if Ryan can’t say it out loud. His hand stops moving on Ryan, thankfully, but he still keeps moving his thumb on his slit. Ryan can’t even tell if he knows he’s doing it, or if he’s just being a tease. “So, do you want to top or…? Because, I’m cool either way.”  


Ryan never really thought about this part. I mean, he’s had different fantasies but suddenly this seems like the hardest question. He opens his mouth, ready to say whatever comes to his mind, but then Brendon starts to kiss his neck, his hand moving again.

 

“You can top,” Ryan finally chokes out because he knows what he wants, it’s just hard to admit.

 

Brendon pulls back from his neck and nods. He gets up off his bed, leaving Ryan a breathless mess, as he rummages through a dresser drawer. Ryan doesn’t feels like he’s thinking straight (well, definitely not _straight_ ) but he knows he wants Brendon so bad.

 

Before Brendon lies back down next to Ryan, he gets out of his pants and briefs in one easy motion, pausing before moving, like he wants Ryan to look. He definitely does, eyes taking Brendon in before grabbing him and pulling him down to kiss him.

 

A condom wrapper feels cold on Ryan’s chest, and he’s confused about it for a few beats before he realizes why they would need it. He’s never really thought of it before. Brendon’s hands work as they kiss, him taking off Ryan’s boxers and then somehow his fingers are prodding at Ryan’s hole, something cold and slick surprising him. Brendon gets two fingers in before he does something that makes Ryan jerk and breathe out, “Brendon, _fuck_.”

 

Brendon looks proud as he does whatever he did again to Ryan. “Do you think you’re ready?” Brendon asks, and it almost sounds like he’s talking to himself. Ryan thought he would know, and it kind of makes him feel panicky because shouldn’t Brendon know this kind of stuff? “Don’t worry, Ry,” he says, obviously realizing that Ryan’s not sure at all.

 

When Brendon withdrawals his fingers to put on a condom, Ryan feels distinctly empty and he doesn’t exactly understand how that works. Ryan kind of wishes he would have at least touched Brendon and returned the favor, but it seems too late now.

 

Brendon pushes in slowly, kissing Ryan’s neck until he’s all the way in and lets out a breathy noise. “Ryan, _Jesus_ , feels so good,” he mutters.

 

Ryan doesn’t exactly feel the same way. He’s probably cutting into Brendon’s skin, his fingers tightly gripping Brendon’s waist. He kind of wishes Brendon would do the same to distract him from the pain, but all he does do is push back in harder than before, like he can’t even help it. Watching Brendon like this makes Ryan feel better because he looks so hot and not in control even if he should be.

 

Brendon starts to jerk off Ryan again, hand moving faster than before. He bucks up into Brendon’s hand the same time Brendon pushes in, making both of them gasp and pause for a moment in complete bliss. Things feel to go smoother after that, Ryan leaning his head back and trying to meet Brendon with every thrust.

 

Since this really is Ryan’s first time, his _proper_ first time, he has nearly zero stamina, so after a few more minutes he’s gasping out, “Bren, I’m close.”

 

Brendon nods jerkily, eyes closed and hips moving faster than before. Ryan watches him for a few moments before he finally lets go, his mouth opening but nothing coming out. He spills all over Brendon’s hand and his chest, and when he opens his eyes again, Brendon is licking his hand clean before he pushes in one last time and comes himself into the condom.

 

“Shit, _fuck_ ,” he mutters, hands now tightly gripping onto Ryan’s waist.

 

They lie there for another few minutes before moving over and Brendon finds them a tissue box to clean up their mess. Ryan watches as Brendon ties up his condom and drops it next to the tissues on his floor before pushing close to Ryan again to kiss him.

 

“Just so you know,” Brendon tells him between kisses. “I don’t usually fuck on the first date, but you’re an exception.”  


They both burst into laughter and kiss some more.

 

***

 

A few weeks pass where Brendon and Ryan mess around but don’t exactly know how to label each other. Ryan figures that it doesn’t really matter as long as they’re happy, even if he does kind of want to be someone’s boyfriend.

 

It’s not until one Sunday after a service that Brendon brings it up. They’re sitting on the swings outside of the church that are supposed to be for children, but it’s the middle of November so no one is around but them. Their coats are flapping in the wind as they challenge to see who can get the highest.

 

Ryan finally gives up, letting himself naturally come to a stop. He smiles at Brendon, watching him too slow down so that the wind is just moving his hair a little.

 

“I was thinking,” Brendon says once he’s stopped. He’s smiling at Ryan like he knows something he doesn’t, and Ryan’s not sure how he feels about that.

 

“Wow, that’s quite a feat for you, Bren,” Ryan teases.

 

Brendon rolls his eyes. “Look, I know we’ve been on a few dates and stuff.” Brendon doesn’t have to clarify what he means by _stuff_. “And I just wanted to know if you wanted to be my official boyfriend.”

 

Ryan’s kind of surprised by the question because he wasn’t ever really sure if they were going to get there. He smiles, though, shaking his head. “Only if you will be my boyfriend, too.”

 

“That can probably be arranged.”

 

They both just smile at each other.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
